Tuesday, February 06, 2007

The old saying about the difference between boys and girls came clearly into my mind yesterday. It was a big day here yesterday.

Little Guy (4) had a bench fall on his toe at school. It was a nasty, scary accident that will probably leave him sans left big toenail soon. Lots of blood, lots of swelling. Mom, Dad and Big Sister became personal (yet unpaid) butlers delivering juice boxes and bowls of chips to the couch where empty containers were dropped to the floor when complete (much to the chagrin of Big Sister).

There he sat. All 3'6" of him - propped by pillows, snuggled under the RED fleece throw, a half bag of frozen edamame (compliments of his school where the horrible atrocity happened) taped to his swollen foot. Ultimately, the Tylenol would kick in, giggles would return and 17 slices of kielbasa (with fries, his master's favorite meal) would be consumed.

Big Sister, however, was a wreck. Her eyes bore tears all afternoon. I asked her why she was so upset, she told me she was scared for her brother. She said it HURT when she came into school with me to pick him up after the accident and one of the kids said Little Guy "...is bleeding a LOT!"

At that moment it had never been clearer to me: they are a gift to each other. They will always have each other to weep when the other hurts, to comfort when it is needed. It is my job to hold that relationship in my hand like a precious gem, to nurture it so that long after I am gone, it will still be intact.

Or at least until the next time they both want to use the Playstation.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Never have I been happier to see a slick, greasy man walk alone on a red carpet. Mitt Romney's departure from the State House on Beacon Hill and from Massachusetts politics was a beautiful event - one that brought a tear to my eye. And to see Deval standing behind him (no doubt fighting the urge to kick him in his boney, slippery ass) just made the event all the more meaningful.

Deval will be inaugurated tomorrow at noon. The sun will be shining, and the temperature is supposed to be a balmy, record-breaking 60 degrees.

God is a democrat. Or maybe He's just as sick of Romney's bullshit as the rest of us are.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

My dear friend Jo-Ann is one of the funniest, smartest and most beautiful people I know. We invariably giggle too much when we are around each other. She has the biggest heart and warmest smile of anyone I've ever met.... this is her Christmas Story for this year.

"Abington Woman Crushed by the Blessed MotherThis was almost the headline! Must be because I was planning on launching a baby Jesus ornament at my MIL.

I dropped (son) at CCD the other night (are you catching the religious theme of this story) and ran to Homegoods where dh and I saw what we are calling a tasteful Mary on the Half Shell. For those who don't speak in tongues, it's a beautiful statue of Mary (without the shell) for the garden. It is cement, but made to look as if it's carved from stone. Very pretty, very peaceful for a garden.

So I run to get it after I drop (son) off. I only have an hour window of time and it takes about 10 minutes to get there. I'm in a rush. I find it on a high, glass shelf, reach up to grab it and put it in my cart. But Mary is alot heavier than she looks. She starts to tip off the shelf, gains momentum and comes down on top of my chest (the girls were not happy) and somehow I manage not to fall to the ground. I wrestle Mary into my cart, but one hand is now crushed between Mary's robe and the cart. Of course, Mary is too heavy to lift with my other hand. So I have to wriggle my hand out from under Mary, getting a Mary-burn across my entire hand.

Finally free, I wheel Mary up to the registers where I get behind an employee checking out. She chats it up with her friend behind the register, they eat fudge, discuss current events....I am waiting. I now have 15 minutes until I need to pick up (son). The employee's husband strolls in pissed that his wife is not answering her cell phone and he's waiting outside to pick her up from work. The three of them then get into a discussion about cell phone ringtones, husbands picking up wives from work, the virtues of answering your cell phone and general civil disobedience. I am still waiting. I now have no time to make my purchase, but it's for MIL so I soldier on. I now decide that i will never wrestle Mary into the back of my car. So I ask if there is someone who can help me...there is not. I then ask if they can hold her for me until dh comes to pick her up in the morning. They cannot.

I then inform them that I must leave Mary right there in the carriage in front of the register, as I will never get her back on the shelf and that, as interesting as their conversation was, I am now late. So, I abandon Mary at the register and run for my life.

Clearly God is punishing me. I don't know if it's because MIL has been praying for this punishment every day at church or if it's because I didn't vote for George Bush. Either way, it wasn't pretty.

Mary now sits in my shed waiting to be given on Christmas morning. I will not launch her at MIL because, well, Mary and I have a past together now. A sordid and twisted past, but we have bonded nonetheless. Besides, if I launch Mary at MIL it will clearly kill her(mil), she will die a martyr and will then have the satisfaction of gloating from heaven (or) for the rest of eternity."

Monday, December 11, 2006

I am not a grossly sentimental person. Aside from my two pregnancies, when I was prone to cry at the coffee commercial where the guy who played Steve on the Young and the Restless back in 1989 comes home from college.... "Peter! You're home!". That one got me every dang time. I digress...

Most of the time, I am a pretty level-headed person when I hear about toddlers who fall in wells and are subsequently saved, or dogs who get stranded on the top of a roof during a flood.... while I will show interest in these things (I'm not dead!), I don't get too attached.

Perhaps it's because I am a parent. If I get too close to something that resembles the loss of a child, I pull back. It's too hard. I cannot even fathom....

So when the story of the Kim family in Oregon began unwinding, I paid attention out of the "corner of my ears". A lot to bear, and it seemed so unlikely that a happy ending was coming.

But then! They found mom and the girls! Wow! Burned tires and breastfeeding! Super Mom! Now, let's get dad home! Alas, it wasn't in the cards. Dad was found a few days later, he had perished in the snow trying to save his family.

I've never met James Kim, but I'm sure I know him. He's a dad. He's the one who made the courageous decision to go find help. To save his girls. In the end, it was his bravery that did him in. Had he been just a little more cowardly... just a little hesitant, perhaps.....

Some say he was a hero. I say he was a great dad. Higher praise, in my mind, as becoming a great dad is not accomplished without a great heart, an open mind and a deep commitment to those fragile little blessings we call children.

To James Kim, who died doing what he loved, protecting his wife and children, I say Godspeed.

Monday, November 06, 2006

There are many things about my husband that I love - his honesty, his straightforwardness, the sincerity of his feelings. The fact that he's an amazing father to our two great kids is high on the list - he enjoys being involved in their activities, never misses a basketball game or a choral concert and spent 2 hours on the floor of our 4-year-old's room playing cars yesterday.

He does a LOT around the house, and is wholly in charge of laundry. I haven't scrubbed a toilet since I met him almost 19 years ago. No, I'm not kidding.

Yesterday, he said something that pierced my heart with love. It made me realize that not only does he get me, but he is me in so many ways. My travel schedule often has me missing anniversaries, actual birthdays (we always celebrate when I'm home), or other State Occasions. Yesterday, during a conversation about how encouraged we are that the Dems might take back the House, he said to me "how much of a geek am I that I'm bummed that I won't be with you on election night?".

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Once upon a time, I had aspirations to work in political campaign management. I worked for Sen. Sam Nunn in Atlanta and for the Democratic National Committee in preparation for the 1988 Convention in Atlanta (you remember, the Dukakis year).

So when a campaign of the magnitude of the current gubernatorial election in Massachusetts plays out under my nose, I find myself trying hard to view it objectively - to see what strategists are advising their candidates these days. As I get older, objectivity is harder to come by - too much is at stake, in my mind, to sit back and watch the game playing.

But this year is different. It's different because the Healy campaign is being so poorly run, that I cannot help to watch with both my objective eye and my subjective eye. My subjective eye says, "hooray! My guy will win!". My objective eye cringes - have they really just let her hang out there like that? Why hasn't Mitt Romney done ANYTHING to help her? Only 3 days ago did he officially come out and endorse her for governor. THREE DAYS AGO!

Where is the Republican machine? Where is the Governator? Where is Bush? Cheney? Anyone? Have they really just written off Massachusetts? (Hooray again, comes from my subjective side!) Is she really that bad? (Yes, from my subjective side) or are there just bigger fish to fry elsewhere?

Whatever the reason, I feel a little embarrassed for her. The RNC tossed her the playbook from the middle of last century and told her to play on her own. Maybe, just maybe, this is what's happening all over the country.